"<Nate.>"

"<Nate, they're all gone.>" Meathead called out again, sensing no other living creatures nearby.

Silence reigned, and Nate scraped his way back out from underneath the carriage. The torn up pavement beneath him shifted and he dragged rubble on his back. He rolled over and crawled up onto his knees, then stood up.

Inhaling, he called out to the team of ponies.

"All right! Let's get moving again." The seven Giddyup Buttercups plus Meathead disguised as one all moved again, relaxing their stiff poses and coming back to life.

"<Where are we taking this thing anyway, the parking garage?>"

"Just around the block," Nate replied, tugging on the reins.

Nate looked at the road ahead of them, the last two cars were moved discreetly while ghouls and the remnants of raiders were and the only barriers to the road were a semi-truck trailer that made them take a sharp turn coming down the off ramp, going up onto the sidewalk, to go around it. Then taking a left turn towards the North End, they were at the corner of the Boston Courthouse, right next door to Faneuil Hall, and on the same block as Weatherby Investments.

In front of the Courthouse was a blown out bus, with a collapsed piece of overpass blocking the road.

Nate reached into the strong box and pulled out a mini-nuke. Priming it manually, the mini-nuke started beeping, and Nate weighted the one pound mini-nuke in his hand.

"Cover your ears," Nate said. Raising his elbow, he heaved the Mini-nuke like a football at the blown out bus and a collapsed section of the overpass and blew a gaping hole in the entire street. Windows blew out in a bright flash of light, and the bus was immolated, being crushed under the weight of the concrete above.

"Let's get a move on, I don't know how many ghouls heard that," Nate said, Meathead urged the team on.

Now the road was clear and bathed in a rapidly dissipating dose of radiation. Nate urged the team to move again, and they rode right past the Haymarket Mall raider lookouts on the upper floor of the parking garage to their left.

The one raider didn't raise any alarm, knowing that the man on top holding the reigns to the carriage was Nate. His blue vault suit was stained with his own blood, but being this close to safety lead his mind to not fixate on the wound on his shoulder.

Circling around to the right, Nate urged the team to pull the carriage underneath a billboard leaning against the Weatherby Investments building. Like a small garage, it was partially hidden from view.

Meathead unhitched the team, and they all followed their new leader into the building as Nate brought the wounded Pegasus up inside the tower.

Passing through the threshold, into the interior, Nate felt like he walked a thousand miles, but now he could finally take a breath of relaxation.

On the bottom floor was a Slocum's Joe cafe, and mini-market that fledged the elevators leading up to the second lobby for all the private suites.

Nate asked that the Giddyup Buttercups wait there until they came back down for them, right now they needed to go to the U.S. Constitution sitting on top of the building.

"<God, it's been a long morning.>"

"Has it?" Nate replied arms weighted down with the pegasus bundled up.

"<It's eight. It was around eleven when we left Diamond City. By the time we actually walked into the toy factory, it was one. It took almost two hours to go from the basement to the roof, and then another hour before we were all hitched up with the team. That puts us at four, then it took us half an hour from the toy factory to the raiders where they all started chasing us. Then you laid there for about two hours after getting shot, putting us at six.>"The changeling yawned, yowling and placing a paw to cover his mouth. "<I really hope she's okay.>" He said, looking to the wrapped bundle of cloth in Nate's arms.

"Well, it's your rescue mission, what do you want to do with her after we get her cleaned up?"

Meathead shrugged, bunching up his shoulder blades and then relaxing them. "<Make sure she's okay, and hopefully get a few questions out of her. After that, it's up to her. Although, I wouldn't mind if she stuck around for a little bit. Baring that she actually wakes up, otherwise I may make a cocoon for her.>"

Meathead offered, causing Nate to look down at the changeling.

"A what now?"

"<Remember how you asked what we do with the victims Changeling's replace? We store them in a cocoon. After all this trauma, the cocoon would be like a trip to the spa for her or anyone put inside.>"

"What happens to the people inside a cocoon?" Nate asked.

"Rapid cell shedding, humans lose about 50 million cells every day, but while encased, the regeneration and loss are five times that or more depending on how much emotion the cocoon is sustained on. It's a lot of effort on really both the pony and the changeling, because emotions are what's sustaining their life force while inside the cocoon.>"

"So if we leave her here, could she get out on her own? She wouldn't suffocate would she?"

<The whole process of making a cocoon and how it works is a lot less glamorous than what I'm describing. If we left her for more than a week, then yes she could eventually wake up and fight her way out, but before our hive disbanded and fully integrated ourselves into society, cocoons were maintained by drones, and everything was on a large scale. Outside emotion could be brought in and essentially prime the pony to keep their minds producing positive emotions and keep them healthy. Since its only you and me, but mostly me building the cocoon and maintaining it, unless you can create a bio-hide composed of distilled emotions in a stomach made to contain them, then unless I make it back here, the Pegasus will be fine, but damn curious as to what happened to her, how she got here, and why she looks better than she ever was. All the patches of mane and her fur will grow out, all the muscles will relax and allow the healing to take place.>"

"Let's see you do it then." Nate said Meathead broke eye contact with him, "I want to see it."

Meathead grimaced, "<The process of building a cocoon doesn't invoke any poetic details>."

"Still, if you're going to be putting one up, let's see it."

\111/

"Captain Ironsides! I'll be having guests conscripted into my service coming aboard the ship! They joining me under the intention of wiping out the Communist threat and are to be treated as non-hostiles, and I ask that you and your men stand down when I bring such individuals aboard the ship!"

The massive sentry bot rolled across the deck and saluted by raising his rocket launching arm up to his head. "Understood, Lieutenant, All Hands, stand down. What is that you've got there, Lieutenant?"

"A messenger pigeon! A big one! One that will aid us tremendously with the war effort against the red commies." Nate pulled off the sheet and let Captain Ironsides scan her briefly.

"Excellent, Lieutenant, excellent indeed!" His canny voice called back, spinning around to patrol the forward part of the deck.

Nate took her down below deck, into the captain's room and laid her in the wrap on the bed. "Meathead, we need to get her cleaned up and get all this gunk and blood off her. Cut these cuffs off her. It looks like there's some dried paint or some shit in her fur. There's blood from where she was shot in the wing and front right armpit. She might have infected wounds too, but those are from small cuts around her body. Her fur looks like hell too. Get a metal tub and some water going, then we'll see about the damage on her wing."

\111/

Nate returned five minutes later with a hacksaw and gave it to Meathead.

"Chains," Nate said, handing the hacksaw off to his dog.

While Meathead was busy cutting through the shackles around each hoof, neither could protest as Nate boiled pans of water and poured each of them through a strainer. Pouring warm water into the bin, and letting her fur soak, the water turned inky black as the bamboo yellow, stained and dirty coat was sanitized for the first time in her entire life.

"That's paint...see how it gunks up and comes off?" Nate observed, rubbing the tacky bits sticking between his fingers to show Meathead "Who the hell painted her coat?"

Halfway through her bath, Nate put more water on to lightly boil and then asked Meathead for help.

"Meathead, can you realign her feathers? What is that called for Equestrians? Grooming?"

"<Yes, I can help. And...>" Meathead held a hoof to his face. "<...Grey Snow. It's called preening. I almost forgot the term there for a moment.>"

"I've got more warm water," running his hands through her fur, he shook and scrubbed the oil and blood loose. Feeling the bumps and cuts and scars on her skin, she suffered plenty of whipping scars around the flank and tail. The skin around the base of her wings was rubbed raw, and he was careful to gently press a warm rag on those areas while cleaning.

Her mane was a rats nest that was never combed, but Nate did his best to shake out the tangles and knots with his hands, then finding a fancy comb, he brushed her mane. Brushing out clumps and dipping it into the water every so often, he fought to make her mane clean and straight while Meathead maneuvered and tapped every feather back into position while carefully pinching out the busted feathers.

"What's she feeling, Meathead?"

"<Fear. Lots and lots of fear. I believe she's mentally withdrawn herself, from the shock of being shot, and won't wake up until her mind can process that she's safe.>"

"Can you tell what she fears?" Nate inferred.

"<Not quite, no. I can tell that her mind is radiating fear, but to find out what she's afraid of is more situational. I'd need to see her respond to stimuli, but otherwise, it's all guesswork.>"

"I'll bet you twenty bucks it's humans." Nate wagered.

"<Why would you say that?>"

"Because who else would do something this terrible to a cute pony, and get away with it? When she wakes up, you should be the first one she sees. I don't think she would be willing to trust a human right away."

"<Rodger that.>"

Taking scissors, he cut the Nuka-World dog collar off her neck. The red material with golden cursive lettering was smudged and dirty. Smudged in a way two hundred years of dirt and dust working their way into the fibers, worn by a pony before her. The inside was soft and worn while the outside was still firm. Tossing it onto the table beside him, he cradled the wet pegasus, feeling her exposed ribs and tight stomach as Meathead dumped the water and he replaced it with new warm water.

Her original color began showing beneath the muck as even more grime came out. A burnt-yellow bamboo fur with patches of raw untreated skin, and two-tone golden aspen and light brown streaks in her mane.

Scrubbing, washing, and rinsing her tail, flank, and back legs, Meathead stepped away and came back with two towels as Nate combed out her tail.

Dumping the dirty water over the side of the ship, they patted the mare dry and carried her into the captain's bedroom, and laid her down.

"Watch her, make sure she stays safe. Talk to her if she wakes up, ask what she eats. What do ponies eat? I'll be heading to Goodneighbor for food and find Piper. I'll pick up something for her there."

"<Vegetables, mainly. Eggs for protein, if that's possible. There grains on our planet. Any breads or...anything. She might even eat fish, but no land mammals.>"

Nate nodded.

<Nate, I was hoping that she would've shown any signs of stimulation while we were cleaning her, but she didn't stir or respond to anything since we've gotten her off that rooftop. I'm going to put her in a pod.>"

Nate considered his options, "Do it. What do you think about showing Piper?" He asked.

"<I want to know what she knows about ponies first before we talk.>"

"Same here. Telling the town crier about a pegasus isn't the best way to keep things a secret. I'll go talk to Piper. Keep an eye on her, and I'll be back in an hour, two hours. If she's still not up when I get back, I'm going to look for Nick at the Park Street Station afterward. You can build your...cocoon."

"<Okay. Good luck.>"

\111/

Nate went down below to the lowest deck, grabbing armfuls of junk and weapons worth selling, and loaded them into his bag. Riding the elevators back down, his eyes went around the executive lobby for a moment, seeing what changes could be made.

All seven Giddyup Buttercups were in a wander mode, two of them resting curled up on couches, three in a group talking with each other, one was looking over tattered economic magazines while the last one was on the second floor, looking out the windows.

As Nate came down, they grew quiet, but one Giddyup stepped forward. "Is our sister going to be okay?"

"Yes. She's going to be okay. But, she's unconscious. She was hurt badly from a gunshot wound, but her body wasn't prepared for the shock and is recuperating. Until then, she's resting in the ship on top of the building in the captain's quarters."

"Can we see her?"

"Yes, but there's not enough space in the room for everyone to go all at once. Most likely, she won't be awake either, but you can visit. She'll love having your support and you being there for her." Nate said, smiling out at the small crowd of gathered ponies. They were raising their heads up higher, now that they knew their friend was safe, he could even see their chest's move and flex with each breath, making them seem all that much more life-like. They weren't stressed out for their friend, and it reflected in their movements.

The Giddyup Buttercups started as an overpriced toy that couldn't even walk in the early stages, it was a rocking horse. But, as the demand for a toy that could move its arms and legs grew, the design evolved. In the time of Arlen Glass, the Giddyups were on par with companion bots, helping little girls discover a passion for the outdoors, but on another note, guiding elderly and carrying their things for them in saddlebags. Not just for little girls anymore, that was always the unintended market that developed around something childlike in nature.

It appealed to someone else for a different reason entirely, but none-the-less sound in reasoning. Arlen Glass saw the balloon shape features of the Miss Nanny Robco robots and saw the lack of emotion in their design. He created the Giddyup Buttercups with an expressive face, modeled after Equestrians and given soft features to create a sense of empathy in the people around them. It wasn't his fault the senior population latched onto these, they would wake them up just like a Nanny bot, and perform the same tasks as a companion animal, but with the option to converse with them as well. The population at large didn't know about Equestrians, nor the changelings, but Nate and hundreds of other people all knew of their existence. Seeing the side by side comparison of Giddyup and the Pegasus, it was hard not to see the similar anatomy and make the assumption.

Walks were spent their elder companion and the Giddyup Buttercup hugging their forehead for support, feeling the strain in their legs as they know they can't make it back to their own room that night. Instead, they would just keep leaning onto the Giddyup Buttercup for support until they couldn't walk anymore, then the pony would help take them home at a nice cantering walk, conversing all the while. With each Giddyup knowing how to properly adjust a person back into the saddle, or one laying across their back to prevent them from falling off, it was a less common, but equally rare sight to see an elderly senior draped over the back of a Giddyup Buttercup. Riding them was a workout in of itself from the constant motion, but not good for people with bad hips.

With the Giddyup Buttercups so animated and involved in a person's day, they wanted to see each person be their best.

"What's your name, partner?" Giddyup asked.

"Nate. What are all yours?"

"I'm Giddyup Buttercup,"

"My name is Giddy,"

"I'm Gigi,"

"Buttercup,"

"Trotsiana,"

"Stampede,"

"And I'm Sugar Cube. Thanks for saving us from those rustlers, I guess. What do we do now?"

"It's nice to meet everyone, but unfortunately, I need to travel and can't take you all with me."

"That's all right, we know you'll come back," Giddy said, the other Giddyups agreed.

"Is there anything we can do for you while you're away?" Gigi asked. "The place looks like it could use some spring cleaning...or a few hundred years worth of spring cleanings..." She said, rolling her eyes to the cracks in the ceiling.

"Yes. Feel free to stay. As for everypony else, watch out for any ghouls while exploring, I don't have anything else for you, but you're welcome to make this your new home just as we have."

"It's got an amazing view!" Trotsiana said, sending a small wave of approval through the other Giddyup Buttercups.

"We could clear out the cafe, and play store, while we wait for you to come back," Trotsiana suggested.

They all nodded, "It'll attract attention, but the raiders in the immediate area know not to mess with me or anything associated with me. After the Slocum Joe's is cleared out, I'll have three of you go next door to Faneuil Hall, and do the same." Nate said.

"But first I need to take care of your...pega-sister," Nate says, but the Giddyups all flock around him.

"I hope she feels better!"

"Tell her we love her and that we want her to get well soon!"

"Send her our love!"

"Hug's and kisses!"

"What's her name?" Stampede asks.

"Her name?" Nate inquires, thinking to the first time they saw her, then the emotion Meathead showed for her. When no name came to mind, music-filled his thoughts instead.

The moment her form was lite-up against the black sky by a lightning bolt in the distance above the streets of Boston, right before she was shot was an incredible moment. But the moment she woke up from the shock of being healed by four stimpaks at once was when they both really saw her.

He replied, "Thunderstruck."

"Love is a fickle thing, it goes back and forth. I don't know if it's just me, but that red-head raider I was talking to sure waited a long time to mention she had a boyfriend. I think she took some of my tapes too...Damnit! This one is for you, you know where I am, I want my tapes back! Here in Diamond City, Diamond City Radio!